


He Left Me Sittin' There

by MetaBluee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Equestrian AU no one wanted, Eventual Relationships, M/M, a little lot messy, eventing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 16:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetaBluee/pseuds/MetaBluee
Summary: Keith is trying to make it eventing, and he finds his greatest supporter from a kid he taught a couple lessons to for the experience.





	1. Chapter 1

“That hoss weren’t built to tread the earth; he took natural to the air. And everytime he went went aloft he left me sittin’ there.”

 

Keith knew that he was born to do this. He loved the adrenaline, the speed and the height; the danger of it all. He liked how he can feel the animals thoughts from its back; how they are in such perfect harmony that they surf waves effortlessly across the field. 

That is, until about halfway through his ride, a big trakehner fence, followed in two strides to a drop that gave riders a hard time, and Keith fell off when his horse took a misstep after the fence. Well, that isn't quite true. Leading into the fence, Keith leaned forward, and his horse had to carry his ass over the jump - bless his horse - and then Keith was already off balance coming into the ditch, so when his horse hesitated before the drop-off, then vaulted down, Keith didn't really stand much of a chance.  
His coach was not too happy about it, they'd talked about this; spent hours trying to get Keith to just sit down and sit up going into these tight combinations, but he had been tired and sore. 

Three day eventing - the best and most intense sport known to man, at least in Keith's opinion; which is valid, he has been doing the sport since the ripe age of eleven, on his first pony, Bonjo.

Bonjo was a 12.1hh mix of something, a little sorrel who only aimed to please. They had a blast in that first event, even though Keith got penalized because he forgot a part of his dressage test, and he got a refusal at the first fence on cross country day. And the fourth fence. 

But, all-in-all, that day secured his love for eventing; and he'd had eyes on making it to the top each and every single day. It hadn't been easy - still isn't. He grew up in a poor family, and his dad made some questionable choices in order to help get Keith where he is; and of course Keith worked. A lot, and when he took a break from work he got picked on because he didn't work. 

And here he is. $500 worth of entry fees down the drain because he couldn't sit up. It's pathetic, really, but it isn't like he would have done very well anyways. See, he loves his horse, an eight-year-old off the track thoroughbred, your classic bay horse; with an intelligent head and gentle eyes. But, he was your stereotypical thoroughbred in the sense that he really does struggle with dressage - but so does Keith. 

And yes, he understands that dressage is the building blocks to becoming a better rider, your horses strength, and your base for your jumping; but without his coach talking him through it like what happens during lessons, Keith just doesn't always know how to make his horse the best it can be. 

But for now, he has more pressing issues; AKA a sweaty, hot horse that had been returned to him via an older man keeping track of riders over that combination, who needs to be cooled down and have his legs braced. The only thing worse than falling off and wasting entries is a lame horse. 

He only rode one horse in this competition, can really only afford one, but he does occasionally show other people's horses, it's good experience to sit on everything he can.  
Once he returned to the stables, and took his vest off really quick, he rinsed his horses legs off and put his ice boots on, at least on the backs. The fronts get a bucket with cold water and ice. He removed his tack, the amount of dirt, sweat, and water was honestly laughable; it had been a muddy course today. 

All things considered, his ride wasn't that bad - until he fell off. Benny, his horse, had been moving like a well-oiled machine, and he was okay with the good part, he still craved more; he'd always crave more. In eventing, you need to push the limits; so much so that other competitors fall off. 

"So." It was clipped, because of course it was, "That could have gone a lot better."

"Yeah, it could have. . . I'm happy with some parts of it, though."

"Yes, well, is that before you fell off?" Ah, Allura. His coach. She had been around the sport for forever, she had connections with everyone. She stopped competing at the one star level, a feat in itself, after she placed ninth out of thirty-two entries for that division. 

Instead, she used her knowledge to coach, and she was great at it. Keith liked her; it was never the horses fault, because it truly, never is. "What happened?"

"I got ahead of his stride - of the movement, I rode him more to the base of the jump and, well, you know."

"Very well, we'll work on it. I gotta say I'm a little disappointed about your riding this event." It stung, but it was true. Keith simply nodded and went back to his business, there was a six hour long trip home, anyways.

Keith finished his riders levels, he is looking to take his coaching exam, and so Allura let him begin to teach some beginners - under her guidance of course, and simply for experience. They were beginners, too, mostly a walk and trot, tack and untack lesson. At the ripe age of nineteen, Keith worked two jobs: a part-full time job at Mcdonalds, because there hours are flexible, and of course, at the barn. 

In between hauling to shows, in which he decided to mostly stay in his province for this season, he'd teach some. Today, he was teaching a relatively new kid; Angie. She was dropped off in the morning, while Keith was just finishing mucking out. 

Allura said that she was an angel - taught her a couple lessons during the day while Keith was working elsewhere; said she was quite eager to get going, and that her dad was a busy man - he worked at the hospital, so sometimes she’d spend a couple hours more at the barn than expected; it was honestly incredible that they hadn’t crossed paths before. 

Her hair was a bouncy, curly red, and she was pale as a porcelain doll. And quite frankly, combined with her pikachu hat, she was adorable. And loud, he soon learned. He got the blessing of helping her tack up, and grooming - she was too short to reach the back of the school horse, though she tried. 

She had a hard time picking feet, too, she said: "I get him to lift his poot and he just stomps it back down", and any advice Keith gave was either gobbled up or blindly ignored. But she had a good seat when on the horse, and Keith had enjoyed the lesson, even though he kept needing to reset the cones and he swore, the horse liked to knock over - especially with the stink-eye he seemed to give afterwards. 

Untacking was something too. When she pulled the saddle down it landed all but gracefully on her face, rather than into her arms - those did back the impending fall though. She said her dad was getting on oil change on the truck - he works in a couple hours, so he wanted to get it done. Sounds like a busy man.

Angie talked, and talked, and talked. When Keith didn’t answer, she talked to the horse. She tried and failed at whistling when she swept the grooming stall out, going ‘yuck’ when she smeared leftover horse crap across the mat. 

An interesting kid, indeed. 

As they were walking to turn the horse back out, a black pickup truck pulled in, “That’s my dad,” Angie had said, humming away as they walked. She hummed too, when Keith told her to remember to open the gate away from her, and when she forgot to latch the gate using the provided clip. 

When they got back, her father had a freezie for her - and Keith genuinely questioned his morality. The kid had enough energy as it was. But the small smile he gave was enough to stop his prying questions because the smile was so kind, it made Keith freeze. Kind and beautiful. 

“I’m Takashi Shirogane, I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m assuming you’re Keith? I was told you’d do some lessons with my daughter.” Ah, yeah, at this moment Keith forgot how to talk.  
“Yes.” He sounded like a complete and utter imbecile, but Shiro’s small smile didn’t waver, nor did his outstretched hand - which Keith had forgotten to shake. 

“Well, Angie, what do you say to Keith?”

“Thank you for the lesson!” 

And that was that, and Keith was left standing in the barn alley a little shell-shocked and surprised, for reasons he didn’t really know nor wish to delve into, so naturally, he went and did more chores before he watched Allura give a lesson to a more advanced student.


	2. Chapter 2

Hacks were supposed to be calm, pleasant, nice and fuzzy and all that. Which is a great idea and all, except that Benny- his fierce, seventeen hand horse, a monster, really - was in a bit of a mood. 

It was a nice day, blue sky stretching across all four horizons. He'd cleaned his tack, polished his boots, and planned on going for a hack just as a nice little break. Benny had other plans. The horse was jigging, all over the place to be honest, and he'd throw his head and fight Keith's hands.

Keith didn't like to be so rough with his hands; anyone who rides is always instructed to 'keep a soft feel, your arms should be like an elastic', but when your horse is ignoring all other aids in order to attempt to vault around like a lunatic, sometimes you need to be a little bit handsy. Especially when your horse rears. 

It was a fairly new thing he started doing, when Benny wanted to go, go, go, and Keith wanted him to slow down and use that brain and back of his, Benny would plant his feet and pop-up - not just a little bit into the air, no, so much that Keith's feet came out of the stirrups and he was hanging on by a couple strands of hair. Of course, upon landing there was a handful of hair detached from Benny's crest and instead in Keith's hand, but that is what it's for anyways. 

He had other, more pressing issues anyways; like backing the horse up back to the barn, because in all honesty, he was pissed. 

The thing about working with horses is that you need to be calm, cool, collected, whatever; but sometimes, you just need to get after them, sometimes, you just need to get a little mad. This was one of those times. 

He backed that horse up to Maine, there wasn't even time for Benny to think about rising-up again as they went back - not on Keith's watch. And when Keith deemed the distance worthy of the crime, he stopped. They'd just sit here, until Keith heard what he wanted to. 

A sigh, that is all he wanted. Benny was standing so perfectly still; he was good that way. A quickish learner, in the sense that he would only try crap like this once per ride, next time Keith got on it would be another entirely new set of problems - but that's horses for you. He felt Benny's ribs expand under his legs, and he exhaled, relaxing into the bridle a tad more, and Keith rewarded him with a pat on the neck. They walked on.

It was beautiful in summer, out in the trees. It was hot, too. Very hot. Unfortunately, Alberta is quite unforgiving with the heat. It would leave the earth scorched, leave a man to drown in his own sweat, but that was life here. Not all days were bad, either. But on days like this, he knew chores tonight wouldn't be fun for the poor sucker doing them; not when the heat settles on the earth, and it becomes hard to breathe. For now, though, it was nice. He figured that he might as well enjoy the weather - winter will set in before he knows it. Before winter though, he has two more events. Two preliminary levels. 

The great thing about bringing a horse up through the levels is that he gets to do all the basics - he spends time riding over the smaller and easier fences in order to get to the large ones. 

At his first event with Benny, after some schooling shows, of course, they had just entered the pre-entry division. He remembers that show extraordinarily well because a couple of things made him question his horse - like the fact that halfway through his dressage test, a squirrel ran across the boards of the test, and Benny barely blinked an eye even though it was acknowledged. However, as they were coming down the centerline in order to salute the judge, the horse was positively baffled due to the dog at behind the judges booth. It took a lot of willpower to get the horse to stand still for the salute, and his halt on the test scored a three - the test itself scored a fifty, which wasn't too bad considering.  
The thing that truly sold him on this horse though was cross country. Benny was fearless, he took the jumps like a champ, didn't even notice the men on the side, the spectators, or the bushes and trees around him. It was ears forward the entire ride. 

It was one in the afternoon now, Keith needed to pack for a show for the next weekend. He was looking forward to it, nothing beats competing. As he began to untack his horse, Allura stopped in at the barn. 

"Keith," she said, "if you're not busy would you mind prepping a stall for me?"

"Yeah sure; what stall and what for?"

"Shiro is bringing his horse over, he sent me the results regarding the test from his spring tune up." So Shiro rode, that was interesting - he wouldn't have pegged the man to do so, but it did make sense considering his daughters interest in horses, someone had to have ridden. 

"Oh, and do the front right stall, next to Nick. He can have two flakes of mixed hay in the purple hay net in the feed room, and there are some extra buckets for water in there - oh, and make sure you grab some hooks to hang blankets and his halter off of. Thank you, he will be here around five. I have a lesson for four, down at the jumper ring, so you might need to show Shiro where the stall is and where he can park his trailer."

He dealt with Benny first, obviously, spending time brushing him down and turning him out, he wiped his tack down too - it annoyed him when people didn't take care of his stuff. With his show this weekend there was tons to wash and clean, but he needs to remember to tidy Benny up as early as he can - his bridle path is getting a bit long.  
At least when four rolled around, he wasn't on chores. That meant that he could do whatever until Shiro arrives. The stall was prepped, he made sure the buckets were thoroughly scrubbed out before being put in, just to ease his conscience that they were completely clean. 

Three horses were brought into the barn, as it was only a six stall barn, and one stall was used for tack while another just wasn't currently being used, and they munched happily at their hay and grain. Keith enjoyed the sounds of them. He found himself sitting and waiting in the chair by the door as the clock took its time turning. At 4:34, though, he heard a truck pull in. It could be Shiro, early as ever, or it could be another border. It proved to be the first option when Shiro not so hesitantly walked in, nodding his head at Keith.  
"Allura messaged me, she said you'd show me where I can put everything?"

"Yeah, your horse can go in that stall there. There is mixed hay in the next, and I can lend a hand with grain and tack."

Shiro's horse was nice. Very nice. An andalusian cross of some sort, or so he looked. He was a dappled gray, super handsome, and in his stall he went right for his net.   
"What's his name?" Keith questioned. 

Shiro looked over from where he was hanging the smooth, black leather halter, "His name is Beau. We do dressage."

A dressage rider? He honestly wouldn't have pegged Shiro out to do dressage - he'd guessed showjumping or hunters. "That's pretty neat, I guess we should go get our stuff?" Shoot him now for his social skills, yet Shiro didn't seem to mind. He only nodded.

They moved Shiro's tack into the tack room, he had a tack locker holding all his stuff. It was an obnoxious shade of red, but useful he supposed. They labelled and hung blankets, and Keith fell in love with a Bucus cooler that the man owned. 

His grain was put into a feed tote in the grain shed, where on duct tape they wrote the amount of grain and supplements he got. Next was the parking, which shouldn't be that hard; Keith can back up a trailer in an instant, and he figured Shiro would be able to as well. Besides, the trailer Shiro used is a two horse-straight load, it wasn't that long.  
He was wrong. The man had to pull forward and and try again more times than Keith could count, and he had to stop and think about which way the ass end of the trailer what go to - he heard Shiro murmuring about 'if I back up left, the trailer goes right', but he would crank his tires too far and nearly jacknife the trailer. It was truly a spectacle, and all Keith could do was watch. 

He did get it eventually, bless his determination, and the trailer was parked on a slight angle while the other were straight, but Shiro seemed so proud of himself that it was worth watching the fifteen minute back-up session. It didn't take him nearly as long to unhook the trailer, though. 

"Thanks for your help today, Keith."

"Well it's no problem, not like I was performing surgery or anything." That got him a light chuckle, "So. you got any plans for the night?"

"Yes, Angie and I are going to watch a movie together - Monday's are movie night apparently."

"Well, that sounds fun. What movie?" 

"Smokey and the Bandit." They were stood at the front door of Shiro's truck, "I best be going, but I'll see you around. Have a goodnight."

"Yeah, you too." He climbed inside the truck, fired her up, and took off. From behind where the vehicle was parked, he saw that Allura was in the middle of teaching - he decided to go watch. 

There was a group lesson with the Lynn sisters - Ashley, Jen, and Maggie. Jen was always a pleasure to watch ride, and her and her horse, Camargo, were an exceptional pair in the hunter ring, at least from what Allura told him. 

They were nice and rhythmic going into an oxer, and she counted aloud a "one, two, three, four, five" to the next fence - just a barrel, but the line to it was a bending one, which is what made it difficult. The line to it was great, it was on the landing side that there was problems, Camargo stumbled a bit. 

Jen brought him down to a walk, after getting her canter back on track, and started to walk around the area, "So he stumbled because you looked down on the landing side - don't do it again." Jen nodded, "I think that is good for him, you girls can go and hack to cool out. There is some apples in a box on the brown cabinet - just make sure you flatten them before you give them to your horses, otherwise they could choke." 

Three tired and sweaty teens left the area via a gate along the left fence of the pasture. "I take it Shiro arrived?"

"Yes, his horse is in its stall, we moved tack and everything in."

"And you made sure that you got grain amounts written down?"

"It's written down on duct tape on the tote that keeps his feed."

"Thank you for doing that. It was a tough lesson for the girls today - Jen started some bad habits, Maggie, too; Maggie got a refusal today. Maybe it's the heat, I think it makes everybody tired. She just didn't have the upper body control she usually has."

"Yeah it probably is true. Anyways, I need to be heading out soon. I came to ask about a flat lesson this week? Would tomorrow work?"

She pondered for a minute, "I have a lesson at twelve, another at two, and one at six. Could you do four? We always seem to go over the one hour mark. . . and you two have been struggling with your flatwork recently."

"Yes, four would work. Alright, well, have a good day Allura, I'll see you for four tomorrow."

"Take care."


End file.
